


A Winter Feast

by thefuckistevvs



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety Attacks, Blood, Dissociation, Flashbacks, Implied Betrayal, Implied Torture, It basically is kinda sad but also uplifting, M/M, My Kingdom for a Pig sequel, Oral Sex, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Prince AU sequel, Scars, Sloppy Makeouts, Survivor Guilt, kind of like the finale so to speak, prince AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 05:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13001280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefuckistevvs/pseuds/thefuckistevvs
Summary: History marches on.A sequel for My Kingdom for a Pig





	A Winter Feast

**Author's Note:**

> Mysteries are attractive to humankind; people are driven by the desire to know the truth about the past and the reality of what happened in history. It awakens the desire to seek out the truth, to find out about the correct history of the past.
> 
>  
> 
> HELLO!!! HEY, did you know that as for December 12, My Kingdom for a Pig is 1 year old?? holy snaps, I posted the first chapter 1 year ago!! oh my goodness.  
> Well, honestly out of everything i've made, My Kingdom for a Pig is my favorite work, it is dear to my heart for several several reasons, so I had this in mind for a while. I put a lot of heart in this, and It is also dear to me and I hope you also find it a good ending for the fic as a whole.  
> This is a "sequel" of sorts, but it is only one chapter long, and it basically wraps up everything nice and dandy. 
> 
> If you haven't read the fic... well, I'm sorry!!!! you probably won't enjoy this fic because it makes references to everything that happens and I am not sure you'll understand or even enjoy it if you haven't! I'm sorry, it isn't a very inclusive fic.......
> 
> Well. I really, really loved this. And I hope you, the reader, enjoy it as well. 
> 
> Shotout to my gf Trish who beta read this for me! love you bby.

Mysteries are attractive to humankind; people are driven by the desire to know the truth about the past and the reality of what happened in history. It awakens the desire to seek out the truth, to find out about the correct history of the past.

The history of the country had been believed to be a tragic one rife with death and assassinations, most notably the horrific and bloody deaths of the young monarchs that sparked a new era for the land. It had been believed the Fawkes bloodline had ended swiftly, the monarchy killing each other until there was no one else until they destroyed themselves like an Ouroboros looking for power.

It had been bloody. It had been tragic. It was the story everybody believed for centuries to come, until one day they did not

 

The revelation that the corpses believed to be those of the young King and his fiancée were fake was a shock. The further discovery of Princess Bianca’s body in another country, buried alongside a woman, added another puzzle to the historical mystery. They had been lovers, proven by diaries, belongings, and other facts that made it clear that Princess Bianca had a romantic relationship with the woman she had been buried with despite what other older, more conservative retired scholars had to say about the matter. 

The fate of Jamison Fawkes became a mystery; several different theories were presented, but none had enough proof to make them credible. Only speculations wildly different from one another arose, and the question of what happened to the last King lingered in the land.

 

One day, a woman from another country presented heirlooms she had found stashed away, mementos and drawings, letters and jewelry belonging to long-dead ancestors and friends of her family. She delivered them believing they had a connection with the story of the lost King.  
In the diaries, documents, and letters, there was a name that had come up in the past, in the archives, but hadn’t come up as an important individual until that moment.

Mako Rutledge.

 

\---

 

The chilly air hit him in the face, making him scowl from the sudden light. He sighed while he covered his face with the blankets, not really in the mood for getting up yet. It was extremely cold and he was pretty sure it had snowed during the night. Snow made him excited, but at the moment he was too busy being tired and not wanting to get up. It was still pretty dark outside; the sun hadn’t risen yet.

Huge hands wrapped his torso and brought him close. He giggled, feeling thick, warm, and slightly calloused lips brush the back of his neck. 

“Mornin’,”Jamison greeted as the huge hands brought him close. “I think it snowed last night.”

“Yeah. Winter is here,” Mako said, getting close and pressing a peck on Jamison’s cheek which made the young blond feel tingly. Mako then peeled the sheets off of them and stepped out of the bed.

“Hey, what ya doin’? It’s way too damn cold and early! Come back here!”

“We need to get ready for the cold and go to the market.”

“Thought we already did that? If not, then what the hell have we been doing this past month?” He covered his face with a pillow, his words coming out muffled. 

Jamison was feeling pretty exhausted from the previous day and every day before that. They had spent the last week fixing everything, making sure everything was nice and dandy for when winter came. Thanks to Jamison’s irrigation system built out of pipes and scrap, they managed to harvest far more produce than the previous seasons. However, they had to reap all of it. They kept some of it for themselves, but most of it would be up to sell.

“We’re selling our vegetables and fruits, remember?”

“Awh, are ya tellin’ me we gonna set up a stall and sell that stuff?”

“No, I already made deals with the other vendors; we will sell our product to them. But we need to get there early.” Jamison growled with annoyance. “Before the sun rises, it’s when the people at the market set up.”

“Awh, come on.”

“You don’t have to go. You can stay in, sleep more.”

Jamison considered it. On one hand, he didn’t want to leave Mako to go to the market alone at this hour of the night, but then when he attempted to get up his body was exhausted, eyes tired. 

And boy was it fucking cold. 

“Ya don’t mind if I don’t go? I’m fuckin’ tired.”

Mako laughed softly, leaning down and placing a kiss on his forehead. “Stay here. I’ll be back later this morning. Can you feed the animals when you get up?”

“Sure thing, love.” Jamison sat up and kissed him on the lips, a soft quick thing before he went and covered himself up with the sheets once again, falling asleep in warmth as Mako got ready to leave. 

He felt the warmth of the sunlight coating him and it was enough to wake him up. He took a deep breath as he finally shoved the sheets off him and got up slowly. He stretched his long limbs, cracking his bones and back in one satisfactory pop. Rolling his shoulders, he reached over to grab his prosthetics, ready to put them on.

Jamison put on his right arm first. The prosthetic was of amazing quality considering the fact that it had lasted him about two years, plus the fact that he had gotten into a fight while using it. It looked fancy, made of silver. It fit him when he wore his intricate beautiful clothes, fit for a, heh, King, but now that he wore normal drapes and simple clothing, it looked slightly out-of-place. It was a bit scorched and dirty, but it was still significantly fancier.

His original leg prosthetic had been destroyed, but he had managed to build one of his own. It was completely different from his arm prosthetic, made of scrap and rather than a calf and foot, it was a peg leg. He had said he would replace it eventually, but to be honest, he kind of liked it. Something about the sharp contrast was attractive to him.

After strapping his prosthetics back on, he peeked out the window. Sure enough, it had snowed during the night, leaving the land covered in thick snow. The window was closed and, even though the sun was shining, Jamison still felt the cold. And it would be worse outside.

He hobbled to the wardrobe, putting about three layers of socks on his left foot and stepping into some thick wooly pants. Jamison put on an undershirt, his long-sleeved shirt, a sweater on top of that, and an old jacket; on top of that, he put a huge coat that reached to his knees. He wrapped a scarf around his neck and, with a hat and gloves and a boot, he was ready to step outside of the house. 

Jamison didn’t forget feeding the animals, so he stepped out of the house to do so. It was difficult to walk through the snow with his peg leg, taking him a bit of balancing to not fall on his ass as he made it to the sheds with the pigs. They were happy as he arrived, wagging their tails and pressing their snouts against his legs. 

“Oh, haha, hello!” he said cheerfully, his nose cold from the weather outside. The shed the pigs were currently living in was pretty warm, however. Mako made sure to insulate it, keeping it safe from the cold outside.

He had to gently shove the pigs away to get to their food, petting them as they made soft oinks while following him. He grabbed a handful of feed and placed it in the feeders. The pigs happily made their way to eat.

Jamison crouched to pet them a bit more before leaving, closing the door behind him and making his way towards the chickens. The coop was warm as well, and the chickens were all still sleeping inside, their feathers puffed out from the winter. They hadn’t laid any eggs, it seemed, and Jamison just grabbed their food and placed it in their feeder. The chickens were already getting up and making their way to the food as Jamison left the coop. 

That was dealt with, so he made his way inside the house before his nose froze and fell off. Jamison barely had any body fat, making it hard for him to keep warm at all. He could see his breath as he made it inside the house and decided to make some tea for himself as he waited for Mako to return

As he started to heat the water up, Mako arrived by the front door and closed it softly behind him. Jamison perked up as he went to greet him.

“I’m home,” Mako rumbled as Jamison went to the front door.

“Hey, I thought you would be out m- what the _fuck_ is that?!”

Mako was standing at the door with something on a leash. It was a huge…bird? Though Jamison had never seen a bird like that before. It was huge and kind of circular. It was of a black and brown color with a fan-like tail. The head was bald, the skin red and wrinkly, and skin dangled from its chin. 

“What the _fuck_.”

“It’s a turkey.”

“What.”

“You’ve eaten turkeys before, no?”

“Well, yeah, but I had no idea they looked like that!” He carefully approached, looking at the bird as it made weird noises and cocked its head side to side. “Ya want to start breedin’ them too?”

“No,” Mako chuckled as Jamison got close to inspect the bird. “I bought it to fatten it up, then we can eat it.”

Jamison got closer to it as Mako let go of the leash for a second to adjust his coat. The turkey used this moment to jump at Jamison, flying at his face and knocking the young man onto his ass as it flapped and made loud gobble-like noises. 

“Ah!” Jamison screamed as Mako quickly grabbed the wiggling turkey and pulled it away from him.

The young man stood up and got away from it. “What the hell! What’s with it?!”

“Ah, I’m sorry, he looks aggressive.”

“Of course he is aggressive! Fucker tried ta fuck me up!”

“Hey, you’ll get your revenge. You’ll end up eating it, remember?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right, asshole! I’m gonna eat ya!” 

“Don’t be mean,” Mako chuckled as he just put the turkey under his arm like an object but the bird didn’t seem to fuzz too much. Mako leaned to give Jamison a kiss, but the blond stepped back and held his hands in front of him. 

“I’m not getting near ya with that thing, it’s gonna pluck me eyes out!”

Mako just laughed at this and his way towards the kitchen with the bird on tow. 

“Ya managed to sell everythin’?”

“Yes, got good money with it. We will be able to survive the winter and more.”

“Oh, great!” Jamison rubbed his hands together to keep himself warm. “Ye are just in time; I’m making tea.”

“Let me put this guy outside. Can you give me a cup?”

“Sure thing!” 

Jamison didn’t enter the kitchen until he made sure Mako had gotten out with that hell bird. Jamison then decided he would rather interact with the animal after it had been cooked, thank you very much. The water was ready, so Jamison got the cups from the cupboard and placed one on the board. Grabbing the other one, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection on the surface.

He stared at it. He could see the scar that went horizontal, from cheek to cheek, through the bridge of his nose under his eyes. It would never vanish, a reminder of what happened to him.  
He stared at his own eyes for some seconds before closing them and shaking his head. He pushed the memories away, the feelings out of his head as he grabbed the teapot with the water. His metal hand shook a little as he poured the water into the cups while licking his lips and breathing heavily.

He occupied his mind, grabbing the tea and pouring it into the cups lazily because he couldn’t focus to make it properly. But it was done, and it was tea, so he grabbed the two cups and went outside huffing and panting. 

The cold weather brought him back to reality. Jamison took a very deep breath, the chilly air filling his lungs and grounding him. Mako was coming out of one of the sheds, smiling as he saw Jamison, and he approached him.

Jamison felt better when he saw his lover’s face, smiling as he walked through the snow. 

He grabbed the cup and sat at the back porch. Jamison did the same, sitting next to Mako and warming his hands. He leaned on him, skinny body pressing against Mako’s meaty shoulder. 

“They already started putting decorations on the town. I saw as I was in the market.”

“I don’t get this country’s celebrations. What was it for, again?”

“Winter Solstice. It’s nice; people put nice lights and decorations on their homes.”

“It’s so cold! Ya really want to go out like this?”

“The temperature should rise later today. The sun is already out; it is already warmer than it was about an hour ago.” 

Jamison grumbled, taking a sip from his tea. He felt the hot tea travel down his throat and his stomach, warming him up from the inside, soothing. He sighed contentedly. As much as he didn’t want to get out, he knew that if he cooped inside too much he would absolutely regret it later. He had too much energy to just stay inside. 

“Sure, okay, but ya gotta buy me somethin’ nice. Buy me some chocolate.”

Mako laughed as he drank his cup. “Sure thing. Need to get something for your spoiled ass.”

“Hey, I was a King, ya know!” He raised his cup, gesticulating loudly and laughing along with Mako. “Ya gotta treat me nice!”

Mako wrapped a big meaty arm around Jamison, dragged him close, and gave him a kiss on the lips. Jamison kissed back, cup of tea still in his hand, pressed against him and filling his chest with warmth.

 

The weather was warmer by the time Jamison and Mako were strolling in town. They stuck to the main roads that were cleared of the snow, making it easier for Jamison to walk with his peg leg. Jamison was close to Mako, ears and nose cold from the snow. Mako’s big body was enough to give warmth, a pleasant feeling as they made their way towards the town.

It was a quaint town, quiet and comfortable. One of those places where everybody knew everyone, away from the capital, hidden in the country and surrounded by nature. They picked the smallest town they could find, the one that was the furthest away from the big capital. Even if everybody believed Jamison was dead, there would be no use if someone recognized him.

Which would be pretty impossible at this point. Jamison knew he was unrecognizable from how he used to be before. He walked with a limp due to the peg leg and his clothes were old, ratty, and cheap. He wasn’t well-groomed like before, his gait was far more relaxed, and the scar that decorated his face made him a completely different man. 

That winter would be the third anniversary since his father King Fawkes died and Jamison lost his limbs. The thought of it made his heart ache and his mind feel cloudy, making him cling harder to Mako and press his face against the man’s sleeve.

“Hey,” Mako noticed the sudden shift and Jamison felt his huge warm hand pressing against the small of his back and puliing him closer. “You okay? Jamie?”

Jamison took a very deep breath, shoving all those thoughts away. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered at all because that was the past and now was the present. What help did it give to think about that? It didn’t matter, so he pushed it deep down inside and gritted his teeth, shaking his head as he swallowed it down. 

“No, no, I’m okay!” He smiled through gritted teeth. “I’m fine. Just cold, ya know?”

Mako’s lip twitched as if he didn’t believe Jamison, but the blond just shrugged. When Mako seemed to be about to say something else, Jamison let go of him and made his way to the snow-covered plaza as he loudly said “Hey! Look at that!”

He didn’t actually have a reason why he did that apart from getting out of the uncomfortable situation. His eyes scanned the area quickly as he muttered curses under his breath, trying to find something he could use as a distraction.

Luckily for him, there was a woman selling baskets full of chocolate, caramel, and other sweets. He made a beeline to her, inspecting the baskets as Mako got close.

“Ya said ye would buy me candy, eh?” Jamison held up the basket and Mako rumbled a laugh as he paid for it. 

They sat on one of the stone benches and huddled together as they grabbed the candies from the basket and started eating them. Jamison’s was a chocolate candy with salty caramel inside, gooey and sweet. Mako was holding a normal chocolate, eating it in big bites and taking careful chews. Jamison licked his salted lips as he looked around the plaza. People were putting decorations up and jumping in the snow, couples holding hands and some even dancing. 

“Jamie-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Mako placed his hand on Jamison’s shoulder, rubbing gently. “That’s okay. But if you want to, you know you can-”

“Well, I don’t _want_ to. Not now.” He grimaced, taking a bite out of the chocolate. 

\---

Mako Rutledge.

The name had appeared in few documents, letters, and registers. Further examination and research determined that Rutledge used to work in the castle as a bodyguard, starting his job about a year before the tragedy befell the royal family. Further reports showed that he had been dismissed from his job few months before the tragic attack.

He was King Jamison’s personal bodyguard since before he was crowned King. His story didn’t stand out, as many others that worked in the castle had been involved in the incident by the sheer luck of being present at the moment rather than having any real connection.

His personal involvement with the King made scholars believe he had something to do with the eventual demise of the royalty, being part of the attack and eventually dying in the process. His corpse had not been found amongst those that had been buried during the attack, but it was believed that, due to his status as a bodyguard and the fact that he wasn’t actually working as the King’s personal bodyguard, he wasn’t buried near the royal family. 

One theory was that he was present at the attack and was eventually killed, while other theories said that he had absolutely nothing to do with it after he had been fired. Witnesses’ reports from the maids and survivors and their diaries talked about a huge figure, a knighted man who participated not as an attacker of the King, but as a defender. 

The name came out as a piece of trivia for many, just someone who used to be close to the royal family. It was then that the woman came forth with her box of documents demonstrating that the knight had not died during the attack as had been speculated before. However, this did not clear the question of whether he had participated in the attack or not, as other accounts had mentioned his presence during the tragedy. 

Among everything was a final piece, a document which had Mako Rutledge’s name on it alongside someone else’s.

 

\---

 

He came crashing down on the floor of the bathroom, pieces of shattered glass smeared with blood spread on the floor. He crawled back rapidly in a panic into the corner, panting as he saw the mess he had made, bloody hand pressed against his face. He brought his knees to his chest and pressed his head against them as he took very deep breaths, heart beating so hard against his chest he thought it would burst out. Jamison grit his teeth until his jaw hurt, pressing his back against the cold wall in an attempt to ground himself back in reality.

It was happening again. He had seen his face in the mirror, his eyes falling on his scar, and he felt it burn, he felt the blood dripping off his face. He was there again, in front of that giant man who kept beating him, hitting him and killing him. He was in front of him as he swung his sword and cut his face, his blood coating his face while he laid on the floor completely broken, half dead. He could feel his fingers pressing against his bones, his skin, pulling and tearing and killing.

He felt the blood on his face and it made him panic more until he tried to make sense. He had cut himself. He was holding a glass of water and he broke it, some glass cutting a little bit of his palm. He wasn’t there. He was in another country, in a bathroom, pressed against the wall and his face-his face was okay. He was scarred, but he was okay. He was away from them, from everything. He was okay.

And yet it felt like it twisted his guts, like it pulled his mind from several directions while his body hurt and hurt. His face burned like it had just been cut, his bones felt as broken as they were that day, sweat rolling down his face as Jamison tried his hardest not to lose himself.

He felt like an eternity had passed before he could calm himself down. His breathing became normal, headache buzzing through his head, but he was there. He knew he was there and not in the castle, dead.

Standing up, Jamison inspected his hand. It had been just a small cut, and not as much blood as he thought before. Defeated, he scooped the shards of glass with his hands, throwing them in the bin. He cleaned his face and hands with toilet paper, getting rid of the blood.

Feeling like shit, he opened the door and made his way outside to where Mako was shoveling the snow out of the main entrance to make it easier for Jamison to walk through, which was very thoughtful of him. 

“Hey,” Jamison called out as he walked up to Mako, ignoring the uneasiness and the way his head throbbed. “Ya are gonna get a cold.”

“Never get colds,” Mako said as he shoveled more snow out of the way. 

Jamison bit his lip. He kept staring at Mako who shoveled snow out of the way, and his head started to ache, body getting still. It was happening again. He felt sweat roll down the back of his neck. It was happening.

Quickly, Jamison just jumped into a pile of snow, burying himself in it. It was freezing, it stung and made his entire body burn, but it brought him back to reality, made his lungs feel clean and his mind clear of noise. The coldness made it better. It brought him back to where he was, made him feel calm.

“Jamie?!” Mako ran up to him, but Jamison just laughed and attempted to pull him down. Unfortunately Mako was too big.

“Snow angels!” he yelled as he started to wave his limbs and leave shapes in the snow. “Come on!”

“Thought you said I would get a cold?” Mako chuckled.

“Ya too big! Get yer ass here!”

Mako plopped into the snow and made himself a snow angel that was definitely way bigger than Jamison’s. Mako chuckled as he grabbed Jamison, placing him on top of his gut. The blond laughed, leaned down, and pressed a cold kiss on Mako’s cold lips. 

 

They had decided to eat somewhere in town that night. Jamison called it a date, told Mako he had to court him, woo him right. Win his love. Mako kept going with it, saying Jamison would probably be an easy date. After a light punch to Mako’s side, they went to a small restaurant that was buzzing with people. He spotted several who seemed to be dating as well, judging by their bright faces and lack of children.

“Ya notice how there are a lot of couples around lately?” Jamison sighed as he drank a cup of hot chocolate. “I mean, like, more? And more lovey-dovey?”

“Yes.” Mako looked around, still confused. “It’s the season.”

“You’re new around here?” the waitress said as she approached with their food, placing it in front of them. 

“This is our second winter here.”

The woman raised her eyebrows as she smiled. “Ah, well, it’s said that couples that get engaged and married during this time of the year will live a happy marriage, and that they will be together forever. That’s why there are a lot of couples around; a lot of people get married during this month.”

“Oh, that’s cute! We didn’t have that sorta thing.” Jamison mused.

“Where are you from?” she asked, and suddenly Jamison wished he could have just shut up. He didn’t want to think about his birth country at all. 

“Nowhere important,” Mako said as he placed a hand on top of Jamison’s flesh one, comforting him.

“Oh, well, everybody has their own stories here. It’s okay, as long as you’re doing okay!”

“We are,” Jamison smiled through gritted teeth. 

Finally, the young waitress let them be, and Jamison could breathe in peace. Mako traced circles on the back of his skinny hand and he felt definitely better.

They stayed a bit after they finished eating, eventually paying and making their way home as the temperature started to drop. They walked through the plaza, where a woman with an elegant dress was dancing under the snow along with a man with similarly elegant clothes. People were lovingly watching from the sides; Jamison assumed they were friends and family. They had obviously gotten married and were celebrating. 

“What ya think about ‘em?”

“Hm?” Mako perked up as he looked at the newlyweds. 

“You know… them. They just got married. What ya think about that?”

Mako cocked his head, slightly confused as he stared at the couple.

“Good for them. Hope they’re happy.”

“Yeah,” Jamison sighed. “That’s good. I hope they are.”

“What’s up?” Mako asked, confused. Jamison just shrugged, and scratched his head.

“I dunno. I mean, I’m happy for ‘em. I just…it’s weird, okay? I mean, I was gonna get married too, but we didn’t really loved each other that way, Bianca and me. It was gonna be something for interest and for, you know, political power, but…” He looked at the happy pairing still dancing. “It’s weird to think people get married ‘cus they love each other. All the people I knew just got married to get more power.”

“That’s not your life anymore, though. You can do what you want.”

“That’s right, isn’t it?” He smiled, sadly looking at the snow. “It’s been two years, but sometimes I forget.”

Mako pulled him close, comforting. “We will figure it out.”

The roads were decorated beautifully, the stars almost glowing in the sky. Snow was starting to fall as they made their way home and it crunched beneath their feet. At times like those, Jamison did not feel real. Things were crawling at the back of his mind, seeping, his guts getting cold as he felt like he was not real, as if he did not exist. It pulled him down, making him feel like he would vanish at any moment.

He held Mako’s hand, getting really close to him and whispering “Hold me close, please.” Mako didn’t say a thing, wrapping his arm around Jamison and keeping him close and warm. Making him feel real. He closed his eyes as they continued walking home.

-

The book had been torn and very carefully put together. The pink cover was dirty, covered in trash and dust. It was heavy, and the pages inside had been stitched back together. His fingers traced the pages as he read it. Everything in it. The words that had been written by he whom he loved the most.

Those words grabbed him, pulled him. Dug deep into his stomach, clawed their way into his ribcage, destroyed everything inside of him. Jamison cried as he read the book Mako had written of his plans to sell him.

His Mako.

He read it all, every bit. Everything about it. Every single word the knight had written about him, about everything. His world came crashing down and the first thing he did was throw up. He reached the bathroom and retched, vomiting until there was nothing else inside of him. Bile seeped from his teeth and he felt like his heart was burning. 

Jamison sobbed through all of it. He sobbed ugly, pressing his head against the rim of the toilet as he felt his entire being fall apart.

The one individual he loved and felt he could trust, the one individual he would give his life for and would sacrifice everything for was not who he believed to be. Mako had betrayed him. Mako was going to _sell_ him. Mako was going to destroy him, torture him; he would have given him away. 

Everything Mako did had been to gain his trust to do this. _This_. Nothing Mako had ever done had meant a thing. It only meant fucking selling him away. It had been a fucking political plot.

He had been an idiot. He had let his guard down and his life was in shambles. He had followed his advice, he had trusted him and Mako took that, twisted it, and used it for his own plot.

Jamison threw up again.

He dropped to the floor, basically cowering and wrapping himself as he cried. He screamed into his legs, tears flowing freely. 

He was a King; even before he was crowned he knew that people would target him. He knew people would attempt to kill him. It was something that had been taught to him since he was a child. He had seen the effects of this and he knew it. There had been attempts on his life already. And he knew it. He felt them. They affected him, but in the end they were people that he didn’t know, people that were not part of his life.

But Mako wasn’t a nobody.

He had dug deep inside Jamison, had crawled up to his heart, his soul. He had been the first person he trusted in a long, long time. Mako had managed to stick to him, burrow into his bones and under his skin and be there, a comforting person, someone he loved oh so dear, someone whom Jamison was shaping his entire life for. Making sure to keep him close. Knowing that he would have a future with him, even if Jamison had to use teeth and nails to get it.

But it had been a sham, a fucking move to get the crown. It had been something all planned to destroy him, to kill him.

Jamison sobbed in the corner as he realized how truly alone he was.

-

There was a huge pressure on his body pinning him down. It grabbed him, squeezing his throat hard, strangling him. It smiled with a terrible smile, eyes wide open as it strangled the life out of Jamison. Its silver hair was undone and full of blood that dripped down Jamison’s face. 

He recognized him, it was Mako. He was strangling Jamison, pressing him down, growling and snarling as he killed Jamison. 

The young man woke up shouting, thrashing on the bed as he fell to the floor. He screamed, pulling his hair as he couldn’t recognize he was awake.

Mako quickly got up, running to help Jamison, but the blond screamed at him, hollered at Mako to stay away, to get the fuck away from him. He shielded his face, gasping as he shook.

“It’s okay, Jamie, it’s okay,” Mako said from afar, hands up as he kept distance from Jamison. “You’re okay. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

“Get the fuck away from me!” Jamison shouted, not even bothering to look at Mako, pressing his face against his arm as he panicked. He sobbed, muscles tensing up. 

When he heard heavy footsteps going away, Jamison realized he had massively fucked up. He had been extremely rude to Mako, had told him to fuck off. He had managed to keep these episodes locked away from him, had managed to hide them from Mako as much as he could, and yet here he was, crying on the floor of the bedroom after telling Mako to get away.

Mako probably realized how fucked he was, how awful Jamison was. He had realized it and decided to get away, decided to abandon him and leave him for his luck. After all, Mako had risked his life to save Jamison and he treated him like this? Like garbage? Of course Mako was going to leave. Because Jamison was an ungrateful piece of shit that just yelled at the man who had saved him.

His head was split. He felt like his brain was being pulled apart, something very deep inside him telling him what an idiot he was. How goddamn stupid Jamison was. That he should have never accepted Mako into his life. That he should have killed him as soon as he was safe, that Mako was waiting to kill him at any moment. Mako was going to kill him. He should have never forgiven him and Jamison was an imbecile for even letting Mako exist.

And yet it felt like another voice. Like it wasn’t his own voice that screamed at him. It was something else, something bad and toxic in his brain, something that was not him. It pulled and fed off the awful thoughts, festered and built up with things Jamison knew were not true. Because Jamison knew they were not true. Because Jamison knew that if Mako had wanted to kill him, he would have done so long ago. Because Jamison knew that Mako came back for him, and even though he still resented what he had done, they were different people. Because Mako fought for redemption, fought to be forgiven, because he loved Jamison so much that he almost died to save him even though the King said he wouldn’t. Because Mako was like that, because he loved him so much and Jamison loved him back.

He was at war with himself. It felt as if his brain was another person, screaming at him and tearing him down, destroying everything Jamison held dear, poisoning his thoughts and his soul. It fed him lies, bred something dark inside of him, made him feel like nothing would ever be okay. 

The heavy footsteps returned and Jamison opened his eyes to see Mako standing on the doorway, clearly not having left. He approached Jamison very slowly, placing a glass of water in his hand.

“Mako, I’m s-”

“Come on, drink.”

He looked at the glass and drank it. He cried even more as he did so, giving the glass back to Mako as he shook. The older man didn’t seem angry. His face looked tired but understanding, painted with sadness.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t-I shouldn’t have yelled. I just-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Mako, I-”

“I’m not mad. I’m just worried, Jamie. I just want to help.”

“I,” Jamison gulped. “I have this thing. I just- it’s like I’m there. Like every fucking shitty thing that happened to me is happening again, like I’m fucking there, living it again. And it’s stupid yet it feels like it’s real-and I can’t fucking help it. It makes my head go really stupid.”

Mako went quiet for a while. He looked down at his palms, opening and closing them slowly.

“Sometimes I…do the same. I feel like I am there, again. Like I am feeling the pain as it happened at that moment. It feels like my body splits.”

“I… I didn’t know that.” Jamison felt like shit. He had no idea Mako felt like that, too, and it killed him. But how come Mako was better at handling it? 

Whatever; it sucked, but it made Jamison feel less lonely. Jamison got close to Mako, reaching to hug him close, though Mako was so big his arms were not able to wrap all the way around him. He buried his face in his boyfriend’s soft chest, breathing in his scent as he felt Mako wrap his thick arms around his thin body. 

“I feel…” Jamison almost choked on his words, but he had to say them. He had to communicate with Mako if he wanted their relationship to work. “I…I know ya changed. I feel it, I’ve seen it. If you hadn’t changed, I would be dead now. I know it. Ya wouldn’t have gone back for me. Ya wouldn’t have done that. But there is a part of me mind that says that you will do it again. That ya are gonna betray me, that you are going to kill me. But…it’s like I don’t believe it. I know you won’t. I know! I know you wouldn’t and yet me mind is yelling at me, saying that it will happen, that I can’t fully trust you.”

He was crying again, his thin frame shaking. He didn’t even know if Mako would understand. Maybe Jamison was just a bad person deep inside. But Mako had to know.

“Sometimes my mind screams at me, too.” Mako said softly, his face pressing against Jamison’s shoulder. “Telling me that I don’t deserve this, you, because of what I did. That I should have died back in the castle. That I deserve to die, deserve to have you kill me. Because I did something horrible and I cannot forgive myself, but I know deep down that’s wrong. I know…it just feels like some voice is screaming at me.”

“Yeah,” Jamison sighed. “Like it’s someone else screaming. I’m sorry ya feel like that.”

Mako pressed gentle kisses against his shoulder, up to his neck and jaw. The way he touched him, even though Jamison had admitted that something deep inside him was afraid Mako would kill him, cleared his mind. It pushed out everything negative, made him realize how wrong that voice was and that Mako was the one person he could not only trust, but love and know he would be loved back.

Jamison kissed his chest softly, hoping Mako felt the same, wishing he could also let the man know he deserved to be forgiven, that he deserved to be loved as well. They embraced in the darkness and hissed each other. 

“Mako,” Jamison said through pants, feeling his body heating up as Mako’s hand ran up and down his back before cupping his ass and holding it. “Mako, I love ya. Ye know, right? Ye know I love you, right?”

Mako rumbled deeply, pressing his body against Jamison and his gut against his ribs. He kissed him, whispering into his pale skin. “I love you too.”

The kisses evolved into bites, which evolved into touches. They had moved up to the bed, where Jamison laid in the center with legs splayed as Mako sucked his dick, huge hands pressing his hips and running up and down his lithe body. Jamison gasped, moaning softly as he pressed his head against the pillow, humming and tenderly humping Mako’s mouth.

Mako was opening himself up, shoving fingers up his asshole to get himself ready. When he was open up enough, he gave one last lick to Jamison’s cock as the man sat up. Jamison crawled up to him, gently pressing him down so Mako would lie on his back. 

Mako gave the lube to Jamison, who hastily coated his own dick with it as he aligned himself with Mako’s ass and pushed in. He sighed deeply as he felt the silky warmth of Mako, slowly thrusting in and out as he leaned over to Mako’s gut. His massive hands cradled him, pressing Jamison into his chest as he kissed the top of his head between huffs and grunts. 

“Fuck, Mako-” Jamison breathed as he thrusted again, gasping. “Mako, fuck-”

“Hng,” Mako clenched, and Jamison almost lost his breath. He pressed kisses onto his big soft chest at the verge of orgasm.

“Let’s get married,” Jamison said as he continued to thrust. “Marry me, Mako. Fuck. Let’s get married. Mako, please, marry me.”

“Jamie-”

“Fuck,” he whispered, stilling inside Mako as he came. His flesh hand reached down to Mako’s penis and jerked him until the older man came as well, hot spurts of semen coating their bellies. 

They laid together softly as they recovered their senses. Jamison slipped out of Mako, crawling up to him to kiss him deeply, body spent. Mako kept him close, caressing him and grounding him.

“Are you serious?” Mako whispered into his cheek, and Jamison held him close, biting at his lower lip gently. 

“Yes.” He nuzzled his face against Mako’s stubble, taking a deep breath. He knew it in his bones; he had never been so sure of something until that moment. It was something he wanted and needed. Something he knew was the next step. Something to truly assure Mako that he deserved Jamison’s love and that he would always have it, forever.

“Let’s get married.”

 

\---

 

Stashed away among mementos lay an old marriage certificate, many of the words smudged due to time. Restoration of the document revealed the names that were signed on it, one of them being Mako Rutledge, aged forty-eight at the time. The person he had married was a twenty-five year old male whose name was written down as Jamison Farkes. 

The name rang bells among the researchers and the public for very obvious reasons, having been one letter away from Jamison Fawkes. It had been such a turn of events that many suggested it was a coincidence, and it was declared as such until further research could be done.

Descriptions of the men were found in other documents, newspapers of the era and things that had been assumed to be nothing but heirlooms.

A description of the young man had been found. Tall, blond, lacking right limbs. Skinny, scarred face. Pale skin and golden eyes. It was an almost exact match to the paintings of the deceased King except for the scarred face and lack of limbs. 

Further investigation needed to be done before such wild accusations could be made, but the truth was that there was a possibility that the King who was believed to be deceased had married his personal bodyguard. 

 

\---

 

“Are you sure you want this?” 

Jamison smiled, gut full of anxiety but also excitement for what was to come. He couldn’t stop smiling, to be honest, his entire skinny frame shaking. 

“Yeah mate, what ya think? Of course I want this!” He moved in place. “Ye want this?”

“I do,” Mako replied back. “I really, really do.”

“Well okay, then.” He smiled up at Mako as they got out of their house with arms linked together. “Let’s go.”

They walked together out of their house and into the backyard of their farm. The floor had been cleared into a path towards the center of the field. Chairs were laid at the sides of the path, their backs decorated with fancy ribbons. People they both had come to know since they arrived and bought the farm were seated on them. Almost all of them were people they sold produce to, people that had gotten to know both Jamison and Mako and weren’t afraid of their scars and personas. To them, they were just two outsiders that had come and built a good farm who were maybe a little odd but friendly. And who wasn’t odd, anyways?

Jamison felt his heart beat as they finally made it to the center. The judge stood there and started to speak, but honestly Jamison didn’t pay much attention to what he said, instead feeling terrified. Something inside him was just scared. His heart beat hard against his chest and his fingers twitched.

Until he realized he wasn’t. He took a glimpse at Mako and his suit. Ragged, old, not as fancy or beautiful as the ones he had worn back at the castle. And yet, no matter what he was wearing, he looked gorgeous in it, like he was glowing. It was then when Jamison realized there was absolutely nothing to be worried about. 

Jamison wore a similar, ill-fitted old suit they had gotten from one of the current guests, a woman from the market. She had offered them for free due to the special occasion. 

It was strange. All those people were there and not because it was a political occasion. Had he gotten married to Bianca back at his home country, people he had never met would be there only for status, to say they had _been_ there. They could care less about them. And yet these people were here because they wanted to be, because they wanted to share the moment with him and Mako.

It made it far more personal. They weren’t there for power, to show off that they had been there. They were there because they were legitimately happy for the two of them. 

Jamison had almost gotten married and he knew what it was going to be like. It was going to be huge, big, extravagant. Extremely elegant dresses, powerful people, and expensive decorations. It would have been in a massive church decorated with tinted glass.

There was nothing of that here. They were in the middle of a farm with the sound of chickens in the background and they stood in the snow. The judge in front of them kept going with his spiel and Jamison was very aware of everything. They had slaughtered the turkey Mako bought and that would be their dinner. The tables had cheap decorations and cheap booze for when they got to eat. The guests had brought their own food, willing to share their homemade recipes with everybody. It was not a political event. It was a celebration, the solemnity of it replaced with everybody’s excitement and laughter. It was a day to celebrate. 

“...Jamison, do you promise to love and support Mako and live each day with kindness, understanding, truth, humor, and passion?”

He had never felt so sure of anything in his entire life until that moment. His mind was clear and he knew what he wanted.

“I do.”

“Mako, do you promise to love and support Jamison and live each day with kindness, understanding, truth, humor, and passion?”

“I do.”

Jamison couldn’t help the smile on his face as it reddened. 

“Please sign this document stating your legal bond.”

Mako signed first with his name. They had decided he would use his real name; after all, he had been just a bodyguard. No one would recognize his name even if they were from their natal country. When he finished, Jamison signed with his first name and made-up surname. Jamison Farkes. Mako raised his eyebrow a bit, incredulous that Jamison had changed just one letter. But hey, it was an actual surname as far as he knew. Any similarities with deceased Kings were mere coincidence. 

“Very well, you may now kiss the groom.”

Jamison basically jumped into Mako’s arms as they kissed each other, the guests cheering and popping bottles of champagne. The corks flew into the snow starting to fall from the sky. 

 

There was dancing and music, people just cheering for the couple. The people they had met in the market, vendors and butchers, the flower woman and the fish seller, the owners of the restaurants that bought their vegetables and eggs, people that had gotten to know them first by business, then because they were just that kind despite them being outsiders. Jamison and Mako danced in the snow, laughing and cheering, drinking alcohol and dancing until they couldn’t move, until the sun had set and it had gotten just too cold.

It was the middle of the night and everybody had already left. The guests had given them presents, special items that were mostly sentimental rather than having any actual monetary value, and one of them even promised an oil painting of the special occasion. It warmed Jamison’s heart. 

They basically crawled up to their bed, drunk and still wearing their suits. They laughed as they climbed under the sheets, awkwardly taking off their clothes and throwing them. They didn’t have sex, instead simply holding each other and still laughing while exhaustion and alcohol made them feel sleepy. 

There were no words to say as they stared at each other’s eyes because Jamison knew that Mako knew as well. They knew that they weren’t perfect, that they didn’t have what others had, and that they were fundamentally wrong, perhaps broken. Because sometimes Jamison freaked out and forgot where he was and it felt like his face was bloody again. Because he knew Mako sometimes forgot that Jamison truly loved him and he was deserving of love. Because sometimes they forgot the people they were and where they were. That what happened to them had not made them strong; they already were strong and their own people.

They knew that they were far from perfect and maybe, maybe they were truly broken. They were broken from the inside out, but it didn’t matter. Because they were together, and they would build each other up and work through everything. So it didn’t matter who they were now or who they used to be.

Because in the end, Jamison knew that as long as they were there for each other, they could truly be happy.

And he knew Mako believed the same. 

 

\---

 

Objects once believed to not hold any historical significance are sometimes the last pieces to solve a mystery, the objects that connect everything together. 

A year after the discovery of the marriage certificate, a painting was discovered in the library of the town where the document had been found. It had been donated generations ago and was displayed on its wall. 

The back of the painting had the inscription _Rutledge & Farkes, December 20_, the date having been smudged out.

It was an oil painting of a couple in what appeared to be wedding garments from the era. One of them was bigger, his face scarred. His face and body matched the description they had of the man known as Mako Rutledge: big and imposing, powerful and stoic. Next to him was Jamison Farkes. Golden eyes, blond hair, and a tall, skinny frame. 

The man in the painting was identical to the paintings of Jamison Fawkes as a Prince and King. His face had a scar just as the descriptions had told, his gaze and posture identical to those paintings in the royal palace. 

A search through the town’s graveyard found the couple’s tomb. The bodies were exhumed, their DNA gathered and compared with the DNA belonging to King Jamison Fawkes gathered from hair.

The results came back as an almost perfect match, finally tying the events together. King Jamison Fawkes had not perished in the attack on the castle as had been believed. Similar to Princess Bianca, he had escaped with his homosexual lover, gotten out of the country, and gotten married. All the pieces of history had helped put the story together, finally helping scholars and researchers discover what had happened to the missing King.

Despite it being proven, many conservative scholars and researchers say it is but a coincidence. Nothing more than a mistake. Many refuse to believe the last King of the land had been a homosexual man who had thrown his royalty away for a bodyguard with no status. It boggled their minds as to why someone who had everything would throw it away for a man.

Yet many others found the story to be real. They took it, used it. A beacon of hope for some. That even despite who they were, who they loved, they might not be as lonely as they thought. Because the history of their country might have been one of tragedy, sparked by the greed of monarchs, but between all that lust, at least love could come out of it.

 

\---

 

Jamison sat on the stone bench, the cold snow falling on his face. He breathed the chilly air and felt the coldness pleasantly fill his lungs. He spotted Mako a bit far from him, holding a small puppy he was adopting from a woman at the plaza. Her dog had just given birth and she was giving them up from adoption. It looked comically small on Mako’s hands, but he just lifted the small dog and smiled at Jamison.

The young blond smiled as he saw his husband gently pet the dog, stoic face smiling contentedly. Jamison took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and reclined on the bench. 

History marches on.

**Author's Note:**

> I am not an individual that Likes to think of people as "broken". that's... we're not objects. But sometimes honestly, that's how we feel. We kind of like, we feel that we are broken, and unlovable. Because everything on movies and tv portrays people that are perfect, that when they get together they get "fixed". Because we think that maybe we're broken and we're awful we are not gonna love or ever be loved.
> 
> But like. it's ok. Because love can be messy and it will be nasty sometimes. Because sometimes you break down to your last piece and you dont know what to do, but that doesn' tmake you a bad person because you try. You try to get up and maybe, maybe you aren't like you used to be. Maybe now you're different. You dont have the bright eyes you used to have, but that doesn't mean you aren't you. Because sometimes love is raw and messy and its holding each other in the dark while you cry because you feel like you are an object. But, you get to do that. You get to have love, because sometimes, love isn't this perfect thing that you see everywhere where couples are happy always.
> 
> Because sometimes its messy because people are messy and broken and are not perfect, but that's ok. 
> 
> And you'll be okay.
> 
> As for if there will ever be more fics or sequels to My Kingdom for a Pig? at the moment, no. This will be it. Because in the end they lived the lives that made them the happiest.
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading, and I hope you have a fantastic life.
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr!](http://whatthefuckistevvs.tumblr.com/)  
> [My Twitter!](https://twitter.com/thefuckistevvs)  
> [Buy me a coffee!](https://www.ko-fi.com/A313G2L)  
> [y'all like Roadrat? check out this Roadrat Discord i am part of!](https://discord.gg/TyvUXj7)  
> Hit me up if you want to talk about the Junkers!!!


End file.
